Do What You Have to Do
by dannica webb
Summary: I think you're already leaving; feels like your hand is on the door. I thought this place was an empire...now I'm relaxed, I can't be sure. Post-ep for Mother's Day. One-shot.


Title: Do What You Have to Do

Author: dannica webb

Rating: FR-15

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship/UST

Status: Complete

Category: Angst, Friendship, Post-ep

Spoilers: Post-ep for Mother's Day, possibly slight spoilers for other recent season 7 episodes, especially those including Mallison.

Summary: I think you're already leaving; feels like your hand is on the door. I thought this place was an empire...now I'm relaxed, I can't be sure.

AN: Summary from "If You're Gone" by Matchbox 20. Title and lyrics from "Do What You Have to Do" by Sarah McLachlan.

_what ravages of spirit conjured this temptuous rage_

_created you a monster broken by the rule of love_

_and fate has led you through it_

_you do what you have to do_

_and fate has led you through it_

_you do what you have to do_

She doesn't know if he's expecting her to come or not.

Sometimes, when she can no longer distract herself, she thinks on how she doesn't know anything anymore.

She used to collect tidbits of information on Leroy Jethro Gibbs; stash them away like treasures anytime he let something slip. She knows his birthday and that he prefers to celebrate the Corps' birthday instead. She knows exactly how many scoops of grounds are required to make just the right strength coffee. She knows the way down to his basement in the dark with her eyes closed; she could probably walk it blindfolded, with her hands tied. She knows the name of every boat that's ever dwelled there, even the ones that were before she met him.

She knows every single one of his "fifty or so" rules of being an NCIS agent, and she isn't even an agent.

She knows, for example, that rule twelve is there for a reason.

And she is, she was, always confident in this knowledge. He is her constant, the person she trusts with her life and more than that. He's her truth.

Now?

Now, she thinks, opening his front door, she isn't so sure.

There are seven rules about lawyers, but rule number thirteen is the umbrella one. It seemed like such a minor rule to break, really, in the beginning; she half-joked about it with Tony, shoving down the sudden urge to vomit that rose up when she thought of _her_ Gibbs cozying up to M. Allison Hart.

Minor is a relative term. Leroy Jethro Gibbs lives and dies by those rules. Something is wrong, and she can feel it.

Don't look at her like that. She knows he isn't really hers. But she used to think someday he maybe might be.

Now, three cases involving lawyers later, she's beginning to wonder what has happened to the Gibbs she thought she knew.

_and i have the sense to recognize that i don't know how to let you go_

_every moment marked with apparitions of your soul_

_i'm ever swiftly moving_

_trying to escape this desire_

_the yearning to be near you_

_i do what i have to do_

_the yearning to be near you_

_i do what i have to do_

It would be a lie to say that it doesn't hurt like hell that rule thirteen was the first to be broken. Somehow, in the back of her mind, she'd always hoped that maybe, if he were to be inconstant on something, he'd break rule twelve first. Wished, even.

But that isn't what concerns her now, so as she stands next to the couch, closing her eyes and gathering her strength, she pushes it out of her mind.

She can hear the fire crackling across the room, and from where she's standing she notices remnants of the casefile scattered among the embers. Ducky's evidence.

_Her _evidence.

Suddenly, she doesn't know if she can do this anymore, but just when the silence becomes too much to bear he breaks it with a look, meeting her eyes.

Wordlessly, she takes his hand and slides down next to him, her head nestling in the crook of his shoulder, and for a moment, she feels safe again. His arms are loosely draped around her waist, and she tries to swallow down the tears.

They bubble up anyway, just below the surface, leaking out slowly. She thought after Ziva came back, after Somalia, things would be calm again. Things would be okay again. The last few cases, she knew something was off, but she didn't want to face it. And now she's desperately afraid that things are long past not okay and she can't ask him to reassure her because if he lied to her, she wouldn't be able to take it.

Instead, she wants to ask – to make sure – it was worth it. She doesn't blame Gibbs for protecting Joanne...she just wants to know, at least, if they are okay – if the team is okay – but he's been pulling away for weeks now and she doesn't know how to deal with that. Finally, she settles for whispering, "I'm worried about you," because most of all, she's afraid that he's changing.

More than she's afraid of losing him, she's afraid he'll lose himself.

_and i have the sense to recognize that i don't know how to let you go_

_i don't know how to let you go_

_a glowing ember burning hot and burning slow_

_deeper than i'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you_

"I'm..." he begins, but he doesn't finish, and she's grateful that he doesn't gloss over it.

"You're not fine," she whispers. She wishes she could be angry, but she's really just concerned...and scared. He's locked her out emotionally, something he's only done once before now. She'd stayed down in the lab at his wish, processing evidence, having some idea of what he must be going through and no way to help him. He didn't come to her until the end, until there was no other way, and she wants to be angry at him for relying on the enemy before trusting his friends.

But she could never really be angry at him.

_i know i can't be with you_

_i do what i have to do_

_i know i can't be with you_

_i do what i have to do_

He signs 'I'm sorry' against her cheek, and a few more tears slip down as she leans back to look him in the eyes. One more thing that's changed.

"There are so many things I want to say," she begins, but he puts a finger to her lips and she pauses, overcome with memories of a similar night so many years before when he walked out of her life – out of their lives. She gives a knowing half-smile, her eyes flickering down to where she's taken hold of his hand, tracing his palm with her fingers. "I know it's not the time yet."

"Abby...." She can feel his gaze searching her face.

She sniffles slightly. "I know you have your reasons," she continues softly, "and I know whatever you're doing, it's because you have to. I just...we can't lose you again. Okay?" The hesitant question in her voice is delivered without expectation of an answer, but her eyes implore him for a moment, captivated by his stare, before she stands and turns.

She doesn't look back as she walks out, not even as she gets in her car and drives away. She does, however, send up a silent prayer.

_and i have the sense to recognize but i don't know how to let you go_

_i don't know how to let you go_


End file.
